


The Jailhouse

by orphan_account



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bar, Cute, Kinda Rom-Com like, M/M, No smut/sex, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Syruszuviel: Mickey runs a business (bar? tattoos? guns?) and it’s really small and unpopular. Ian is a local journalist who is looking for good places related with Mickey business. So he finds this place and really falls for Mickey, his talent and his grumpiness and tries to help Mickey by promoting his store. And now Mickey is really popular and Ian want to slap his own face because he can’t barely speak with Mickey or even see him and basically he just cockblocked himself. You know I love jealous or frustrated Ian fighting for Mickey.</p><p>I took some liberties with this and quite some things are different, but I hope you still enjoy this :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jailhouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SyrusZuviel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyrusZuviel/gifts).



> I am so proud of you and I am so thankful for all your support and I am so happy you're back :) I hope you enjoy this, it was a lot of fun to write :)
> 
> Also thanks to gallavicher, for some feedback :)

Mickey ran his hand over the dusty bar top. The wood was thick and dark, fancy patterns carved into the front. Behind the bar a counter was missing but the liquor shelves were still mostly in tact. Mickey turned to inspect the rest of the bar. One and a half tables, no chairs or barstools, and the floor definitely needed to be replaced. A few window glasses were missing and most of the curtains were half torn off their poles.

The balls of his hands pressed against his eyes, Mickey sighed. He would never be able to afford the repairs this place needed.

“What are you thinking?” Mandy asked behind him.

He turned around to his sister with a shrug. “It’s gonna be expensive.”

Mandy nodded. She cast her eyes around the place. When they landed back on Mickey her lips spread into a wide grin. Mickey ran a hand over his face before he grinned right back. With a squeal Mandy threw her arms around his neck.

“We’re getting out, Mick. We’re getting out,” She said over and over again into his shoulder.

All Mickey could do was nod and hug her a little tighter.

 

Mickey had gotten the call a month earlier. His mother’s brother, Dmytro, who had lived in New York City, had died and left Mickey his old bar. It had been closed for nearly ten years, windows and doors boarded up. Mickey didn’t know why he had never sold it.

“He knew we’d need a way to get out one day,” Mandy had said.

Mickey had rolled his eyes at her romanticism. It rarely showed its face, but when it did, she went all out. Dmytro, or uncle Dimi as they used to call him, had never liked Terry from what Mickey had gathered. Maybe he had known what a terrible excuse for a man Terry was, or maybe he had just played the role of the big brother who thought nobody was good enough for his little sister. Mickey didn’t know and he didn’t care.

He and Mandy had packed up and left the South Side an hour after the call. The lawyer had been friendly enough to pay for a hotel room for two nights so they could take a look at the bar and the apartment above it.

Mickey still remembered the bar. His mother had taken him and Mandy to visit their uncle when they were young. Mandy had only been three, Mickey six. He remembered how he had hid behind the bar or under tables while Mandy had wobbled around, laughing, trying to find him. Uncle Dimi would always give Mickey root beer, pretending it was real beer, because it had made him feel cool like his older brothers. The memories were foggy, but Mickey knew the only few times he had seen his mother actually smile had been when they had visited uncle Dimi in the big City.

 

With a huff Mickey let the heavy box drop to the wooden floor of the apartment. It was a two-bedroom, luckily, and in a cloak-and-dagger operation he and Mandy had packed their stuff and left the South Side of Chicago and their father behind them. Mandy was buzzing with excited energy as she carried the last box in behind Mickey. She sat it on top of his and laid her hands on her hips.

“Can’t believe this is really happening,” she said with a shake of her head.

Mickey nodded as he looked around the apartment. The front door led right into the living room, which then led into the half-open kitchen. On the left were three doors, the bathroom between the two bedrooms. The paint was peeling off the wall and there was a thick layer of dust on everything. The place, just like the bar beneath it, needed plenty of work. When Mickey looked at Mandy, her wide smile and bright eyes, he knew it was worth it. It wasn’t Chicago and it wasn’t their father’s house, and that already made it the perfect place for them.

After a long weekend of cleaning, painting, and re-furnishing a few things, they were well settled in. They sat down on their brand new second-hand chairs, all the money they had left stacked into neat piles on top of Dmytro’s sturdy old dinner table. They had already counted through the money four times and now they were staring at it as though it would become more if they just stared long enough.

“Do you think it will be enough?” Mandy asked after a few minutes.

Mickey shook his head as he started to gather the money into the waiter’s purse they had found behind the bar when they had first come down to New York to take a look. “I think we can do the floor and the walls and windows with it, at most.”

Mandy sighed. It didn’t look good. They had no idea how to get the money together for the renovation and they still had to fix a few things in the apartment, like the warm water. It was a hot summer, so it wasn’t too bad yet, but they needed to get it fixed before winter.

“We’ll take it step by step,” Mandy said.

Mickey looked up at her. Her eyes were uncertain but her lips were pressed into a thin line, usually a sign for determination. He nodded, trying to convey confidence. He couldn’t fool Mandy, he knew that, but she needed the pretense, they both did. They couldn’t give up now, not just because they were missing some money. They would find a way, because they had to. They were out of Chicago and they wouldn’t go back there, ever.

 

Ian squinted against the sun as he looked up at the street sign. He couldn’t decipher the name but he was mostly sure it was the right one. He readjusted his shoulder bag and made his way down the small street until he stood in front of the massive door of a small bar called  _Dmytro’s._ Ian wondered how someone could have the success this bar had had with an unpronounceable name like that. The owner had died a while ago but word had gotten around that someone of his family had taken over. The bar used to be an insider-tip about a decade ago, Ian had been told. Since it was supposed to open again now, people hoped the new owners would restore the place to its original splendor.

When Ian reached the bar, he pushed lightly against the thick door. It swung open easily. He knocked on the frame as he stepped in, looking around. The place was a mess, dusty and half the interior was destroyed. He walked up to the old bar, thrumming his fingers on it.

“Hello?” he called out, “is anyone here? The door was open and I thought I’d just—“

“Who the fuck are you?” a male voice interrupted him. It came from the room behind the bar.

Ian cleared his throat and pulled out one of his business cards.

“Um, my name is Ian Gallagher. I write for a local magazine and we want to do an article on old popular bars coming back to life. I heard you are restoring the place—“ Ian stopped and his eyes widened when the man stepped out of the dark room. He was a little smaller than Ian; his eyes were narrowed as he assessed Ian. He was cleaning his hands on a rug, before he threw it onto the bar and leaned on it. His fingers curled around the edge of the bar and Ian could see his knuckle tattoos.  _Fuck U-Up_. Ian took a deep breath. This was going to be fun, he thought. He looked back up, put on a wide grin, and held out his hand as he repeated, “Ian Gallagher.”

The man kept his eyes on him for a moment longer, before he nodded. He didn’t take Ian’s hand, though.

“Mickey Milkovich.”

Ian smiled as he pulled his hand back. He pulled out a notepad and a digital camera as he explained himself, “I work for a local magazine, as I said, and we want to write an article on old popular bars that are coming back to life.  _Dmytro’s_  apparently used to be incredibly popular and we heard you want to bring it back, is that correct?”

Mickey lit up a cigarette and took a few drags. His eyes stayed on Ian and it almost made him squirm. Mickey was pretty good looking. The intense way he eyed him caused the back of Ian’s neck to heat up and he could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. His eyes were wide and he was sure his uncertainty was written all over his face. Then Mickey cracked a smile. “Yeah, that’s correct.”

Ian waited for a second, but Mickey made no move to say anything else, so he nodded.

“Okay,” he said. He let his eyes roam over the place before they settled back on Mickey. “Do you know how long it is going to take until the place is ready to open again?”

Mickey took another drag of his cigarette before he finally looked away from Ian and let out a long sigh. “Nah man. So far it looks like we’ll never open.”

Ian’s brows furrowed at that. “Never? Why?”

Mickey shrugged. “We are fucking poor, man. We only just have the money for the windows and the floor.”

Ian deflated a little at the news. He had been looking forward to the article and, although New York had thousands of bars, it was hard to find really good bars that used to be popular and were re-opened. He had read a lot about  _Dmytro’s_ and he had spoken to plenty of the people that used to come here. They had all been so fond of the place, remembering some epic nights, and all of them were excited to hear that the bar might open up again. Ian’s eyes landed on Mickey again. He wasn’t sure if it was the sole wish to include this bar in his article or the wish to do something physical again that he straightened his back and said, “I can help you. I can help with some of the walls and furniture for sure; I have contacts. We can organize an event to collect money. I know a bunch of the old customers would support it.”

Mickey frowned at Ian’s enthusiasm, but he didn’t object, so Ian kept going. He started walking around the place, listing ideas for decorations and furniture arrangements. Mickey followed him around listening intently to Ian’s surprise. Ian knew a little part of him also didn’t mind the idea of seeing Mickey again and possibly on the regular. But most of all, he realized, he wanted to do something again. His job was good, fun, but it was a desk job and he came from a background with little accomplishments. But that was what he wanted, needed almost. He wanted to feel accomplished again and this bar was the perfect way to get there.

“You got no other hobbies?” Mickey asked all of a sudden.

Ian stopped and turned around to where Mickey was leaning against a table, breathing out the smoke of another cigarette. Ian walked over to him and held his hand out. Mickey raised a brow, but handed the cigarette over. After taking a long drag, Ian blew out the smoke with a satisfied smile. He took another one before he gave it back.

“God, I missed that.”

“Why’d you quit then?”

Ian pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. He watched Mickey smoke for a minute before he reached his hand out again. Mickey passed the cigarette over and satisfied the urge he hadn’t had in so long. He couldn’t say why he suddenly felt the need to smoke again, maybe it was the fact that it was the same brand he used to smoke or maybe it was the atmosphere of the old bar. Maybe it was the way Mickey’s lips closed around the filter and the way his cheeks hollowed when he sucked on it, but Ian didn’t think he should go that far yet. They just watched each other while they smoked the cigarette together.  

“It’s a good project. People love this place and I have some time on my hands and an article to write. This is for my profit just as much as it is for yours. So are you in?”

And finally Mickey dropped the smirk and gave Ian an honest grin. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and reached his hands out. Ian took it and they shook. Deal sealed.

 

Mandy met Ian an hour later. She had been out grocery shopping and after unloading her purchases upstairs she had come downstairs to ask Mickey about lunch. She stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched her brother and a red headed stranger sitting around one of the tables that was still usable. Mickey was listening intently as the other man was talking animatedly, gesturing broadly with his arms.

“Oh is that your sister?” the red head suddenly asked and Mandy saw Mickey’s head snap around to where Ian was looking at her.

Mandy grinned and walked further into the room. The red head got out of his seat and shook Mandy’s hand.

“Ian Gallagher,” he said with a wide smile.

“Mandy Milkovich. You guys know each other?”

Mickey shook his head as he came over to the two.

“Nah, he just walked in and said he’d help us out.”

Mandy raised her eyebrows and looked between the two. Ian grinned and nodded in confirmation. Mickey just waved her off.

“I know; he’s fucking weird. But he actually has some good connections and ideas, so I think it won’t hurt us if we try it.”

Ian rolled his eyes, but he didn’t acknowledge Mickey’s words any more as he kept his eyes on Mandy. It was up to her. She glanced over at her brother. He was leaning against the bar, smoking, and watching Ian.

Mickey had told Mandy about his sexuality when he was fifteen. It had taken him a few days to find the courage. She had known something was up, but the way it had eaten at Mickey had kept her patient. One day, when their father had still been in prison and their brothers out on a drug run, he had sat her down on his bed and paced the room for twenty minutes before he had just blurted it out. They had been still for a long minute and Mandy had seen the panic rising in Mickey before he had bolted to the bathroom and puked. She had sat with him, had brought him a glass of water, and then she had hugged him until he had stopped shaking. Ever since she had only seen Mickey checking out guys a handful of times. The way he was looking at Ian with his red hair lit up by the sun shining through the dirty old windows, though, that was a whole different level of checking out. Mandy had never seen that look in his eyes. She didn’t know for how long the two had been talking before Mandy had interrupted, but Ian must have said some really good stuff for Mickey to be so obviously wrapped around his finger.

“What are your ideas then, Ian Gallagher,” Mandy said and looked back to Ian with a smile.

Ian dived right back into the telling of his ideas. He told her about his job and the article, about the idea to host an event to collect money, and he told her about this old regular of the _Dmytro’s_ , who owned a second hand furniture shop and would probably be happy to help. Mandy understood quickly what had Mickey so enthralled. Listening to this Ian Gallagher was captivating. He showed an enthusiasm and optimism neither of the Milkovich siblings had ever experienced. It was a new world for them that Ian opened up with nothing but words and wild hand gestures. And on top of that he was charming and Mandy was sure he could convince you to do anything he asked just with a look and one of those dazzling smiles that seemed to almost split his face in two.

 

Ian picked Mickey up the next day to go to one of his contacts. The man was tall and Mickey could have found him intimidating if it wasn’t for the twin girls in his arms. But the thing that fascinated Mickey were the rows and rows of huge liquor racks that spread out behind the man. Mickey was almost sure the man had about every kind of liquor anyone on this planet had ever produced. He was like a kid in the candy store. He followed a little behind Ian and the man, whose name was apparently Kevin or Kev as Ian called him. Ian was bargaining with Kev, but the man was tough.

“Kev, I didn’t want to go there, but you leave me no choice,” Ian said in a fake-sad tone, “you  _owe_  me, remember?”

Mickey tore his eyes away from the liquor racks as he caught up with the other two and watched between them. Judging by the cocky smile on Ian’s lips and Kev’s wide eyes, whatever Kev  _owed_  Ian was a pretty big favor. So Mickey kept quiet and looked as innocently as possible at Kev. They stood like that for a while, Kev’s suspicious eyes flicking between Mickey and Ian. Then he let out a long-suffering sigh and nodded.

“Fine. You can have what you need and nothing more on the house.”

Mickey was sure his eyes almost fell out of their sockets with how wide they opened.  _On the house_? Had he heard that right? He looked back to Ian for confirmation and immediately got it through a small nod and happy grin. Mickey was a millisecond away from grabbing Ian and kissing him senseless, but that thought stirred something inside of him. It distracted him for a moment and he wasn’t sure what to think of it. He shook the thought off and followed the other two to Kev’s office. They listed what they needed and Kev promised to deliver the liquor a day before the collecting-event.

(Mickey and Mandy refused to call it a charity event, so they had re-named it to collecting-event.)

 

Kev also provided them with two large refrigerators for the drinks and Ian printed a bunch of flyers and posters he had designed with Mandy, at his office. They handed them out to the former regulars Ian had found and other people all over New York City. They hung the posters on street lamps, public pinboards, and shop fronts. Mickey was still sceptic about whether any of this would bring them any money. The idea was to basically throw a massive party and ask people to donate for  _The Resurrection of Dmytro’s._

(Ian wasn’t too happy with the title, but Mandy and Mickey found it genius, so he had allowed them that decision.)

In retribution they’d get drinks at an incredibly low price they would get nowhere else in the City and music from a rather famous New Yorker DJ. Another one of Ian’s contacts.

Apart from the title, Ian had mostly taken over everything. He was the organizer and the marketing boss at the same time and Mickey and Mandy were happy to follow his lead. If this event could get them the money they needed, they’d have to thank Ian for their subsistence. Without him they would have already been stuck two days after moving to New York. Ian waved them off whenever they mentioned it though. He didn’t do it for the praise or the gratitude – although hearing Mickey praising him did give him the tingles – he did it for himself, for his own accomplishments.

During these two weeks between their first meeting and the collecting-event Ian and Mickey had spent just about every second with each other. Ian had become a regular on their couch, sleeping over whenever they planned and worked deep into the night. They had breakfast together every day, whether Ian had slept over or not, while Mandy was at college.

(She had signed up for business courses at a near-by community college before they had moved. Classes had started a few days after Ian had showed up.)

Ian would say Mickey and he had become close friends in that short time. There was still a lot Ian didn’t know, but it had only been two weeks after all. He knew Mickey trusted him though, and he knew that Mickey didn’t trust just anyone. One night Mickey had told him a little bit about his mother and about the main reason he and Mandy had left Chicago. Two nights later Ian had told him about his past dreams of WestPoint and the Army, but that his mental condition had made that impossible. He didn’t go into detail, didn’t tell Mickey what exactly had happened or what exactly he had, and Mickey hadn’t told him what exactly happened behind the closed doors of the Milkovich home in Chicago or why his mother wasn’t around anymore. Ian had opened up in a way he hadn’t done in a long time, maybe ever, and he had a feeling it was a similar situation for Mickey. It brought them closer and Ian could already feel himself falling. He tried to stem the feeling, fight against the need, because he knew it was too early, too intense. Ian had pushed guys too much before, because of that intensity, but he didn’t want to push Mickey like that. It was a dilemma and Ian wasn’t used to it. Ian was a doer. Ian fought for what he wanted and he didn’t give up, but with Mickey he felt like he needed to be patient, and patience was not something Ian Gallagher had. When Ian looked at Mickey though, with those bright blue eyes that shouldn’t shine as much after all the things Mickey had been through, when he saw Mickey’s smile break through his ever-sullen expression, Ian was sure for Mickey he could be a little patient.

 

It was the evening before  _The Resurrection of Dmytro’s_ and Ian still shook his head at the name as he kneeled on the bar’s floor painting it onto a banner. Mandy and Mickey were so immensely proud of themselves for coming up with such a genius idea for the event’s name that Ian had stopped nagging and accepted it. It was cute to see their pride and how they stressed the words because they couldn’t get enough of their own genius.

Ian couldn’t help but smile as he filled in the letters Mandy had drawn with a pencil. She and Mickey were setting up picnic tables and benches outside. It was summer and they had gotten the permission from the landlord to set up outside as well. This way even more people could come and it wouldn’t get too stuffy inside. They had gotten a few kegs of beer from Kevin and a bunch of hard liquor and soft drinks. He also provided the beer pump Mickey had already installed behind the bar. The preparations were going well, but all three were nervous about whether people would show up and if they could gather enough money from the event. So when Ian was done with the banner he rolled it up carefully and placed it behind the bar. He got a bottle of Jameson out of its box and three shot glasses before he made his way outside. Mickey just sat up the last of the benches and Mandy was already skipping over to Ian as he sat the bottle and glasses down on one of the tables. He filled them up and they waited for Mickey to come over

“To the resurrection of  _Dmytro’s_ ,” Ian said and held up his glass.

“To the resurrection of  _Dmytro’s_ ,” Mickey and Mandy echoed as they raised their glasses as well. The three of them grinned at each other before they tossed down their shots. They continued drinking and talking outside, fantasizing about a time when the bar would be open and busy.

“You’ll be around, Ian, right? We couldn’t have done it without you,” Mandy said as they made their way inside, because it was getting cold outside.

Ian walked over to the jukebox he had brought over in the morning. The old man who would provide them with furniture had called Ian a few days prior about having found the old jukebox in the depths of his storage room and that he would love for them to have it for the bar. Ian and Mickey had picked it up a day later and had fixed it up. Ian pushed a few buttons and came back over to Mandy.

“We don’t even know if we’ll get enough money, yet,” Mickey said to Mandy.

Ian threw an arm around Mickey’s shoulders and grinned at him.

“Don’t be negative Mickey. It’ll work out,” he said.

Mickey couldn’t help but smile back at Ian. His arm felt heavy around Mickey’s shoulders, because Mickey was all too aware of it. It sent a tingle down his spine and for the first time he understood what it meant to have butterflies in your stomach. He could smell Ian and for a moment he wanted to lean in and press his face into Ian’s neck to breathe him in. In his drunken state he almost did, but then Ian pulled away and took Mandy’s hand to lead her into the middle of the bar. He went back to the jukebox to press one more button and then the music started playing and Mickey watched as Ian attempted moving his hips to the first few beats. He sang along to the [Elvis song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDID_E0FDUU) and then took Mandy by her hands and spun her around.

_Let's rock, everybody, let's rock._

_Everybody in the whole cell block_

_was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock._

Mandy laughed along and Mickey could hardly keep his own laugh to himself. He leaned against the bar, throwing back a few more shots as he watch Ian and Mandy dance around the bar, singing along loudly and out of tune. Every so often Ian’s eyes glanced over to Mickey and he felt a blush creep up his neck with every look.

_Number forty-seven said to number three:_

_"You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see._

_I sure would be delighted with your company._

_Come on and do the Jailhouse Rock with me."_  

Mickey couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Mandy smile and laugh so carelessly and he couldn’t remember the last time he himself had felt this light and happy. It scared him, this impact Ian had on him and Mandy. It scared him that, because of the past two weeks, Ian was a part of the bar just like Mickey’s memories were. He would be a part of this bar for as long as Mickey and Mandy owned it, because Mandy was probably right. Mickey wasn’t sure they could have done it without him.

“Of course I’ll be around,” Ian said over the music as he kept spinning Mandy around, “I’ll be a regular.”

Mandy laughed and pulled him a little closer as they kept on dancing until the song was over. It was so easy for Ian to say that he would be around, but Mickey hoped he meant it. He knew that he was falling for him and he didn’t just want Ian to be a part of the bar, but a part of their life.

 

The event was a full success. Mickey was behind the bar as Mandy, Ian, and Ian’s sisters Fiona and Debbie ran around waitressing.

(Ian had recruited Fiona and Debbie to help just in case a lot of people came and he was more than relieved that they were there, both being experienced in the business).

The bar was full and outside half the alley was filled with even more people. Kev and Ian had eventually put up a small bar outside so people could get drinks there as well. It was a hot summer day and various people had already come up to Ian or Mandy to tell them that they were looking forward to more of these in the future before donating generously. Ian had had to comfort Mandy every once in a while when the positivity and love she got from the guests overwhelmed her.

After a few hours Ian pushed himself through the masses of people to get to the bar inside. He wanted to see how Mickey was doing. When he finally got to the bar Mickey was standing a little further down talking to an older lady. Ian could only just hear them over everybody else.

“I remember you and your sister,” the lady said, “your mother was a beautiful woman and it was such a joy to have you two little kids run around the bar and play waiters. Dmytro was always so happy to have you kids there. He talked about you and your sister all the time.”

Mickey dipped his head smiling bashfully and it might just have been the cutest thing Ian had ever seen. The lady patted Mickey’s hand.

“I am so happy to be alive to see this place flourishing again. Have you thought about a name yet? I loved Dmytro, but it is your place now. You should have your own name.”

Mickey smiled at her and surprised Ian, when he nodded and said, “Yeah. It’s gonna be  _The Jailhouse_.”

None of them had thought about a new name yet and Ian was dumbfounded for a moment before he connected the dots. He felt himself blushing. It was stupid to think that the name had anything to do with Ian, although it had been him that had put the song on the day before.

“That is a wonderful idea. Very fitting,” the lady said with a smile. She squeezed Mickey’s hand and then turned away with her beer, disappearing back into the crowd.

Mickey turned and caught Ian’s eyes. They smiled and then he came over to him.

“You need anything?”

Ian shook his head and leaned up so he didn’t have to scream.

“Nah, just taking a break. Wanted to see how you’re holding up.”

Mickey grinned and drew him a beer from the tap. Ian took a long gulp and let out a satisfied sigh as he sat it back down.

“It’s good. Exhausting, but fun. I think I can get used to bartending,” Mickey answered as he handed out drinks to the other patrons.

“So, uh,  _The Jailhouse_?” Ian asked and the blush crept back up his cheeks.

Mickey stilled for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and shrugged. Ian just took another gulp and grinned at Mickey. He tried to ignore it, but when he caught Ian’s eyes he couldn’t help it and he huffed out a laugh. Ian finished his beer and then he pushed his way back out of the bar, but not before tapping Mickey’s hand and giving him an honest smile. They were doing it. They were resurrecting  _Dmytro’s_  and making it their own:  _The Jailhouse_.

 

Mickey kicked out the last few guests at six in the morning. Ian’s family and Kev had already left so it was only Mickey, Mandy, and Ian left. Ian was cleaning up behind the bar and Mandy had fallen asleep at one of the tables. The sun was starting to rise outside and the whole bar was dipped in the orange-golden light that streamed through the windows.

“We’ll do that later, Ian. Let’s go sleep,” Mickey said as he walked over to pick Mandy up without waking her.

Ian sighed and dropped the cloth he had been using to wipe down the bar. He followed Mickey upstairs and made to lie down on the couch while Mickey brought Mandy to her room. When he came back and saw Ian trying to get comfortable on the couch he smiled to himself before leaning onto the back of the couch to look down at Ian.

“Come on. You deserve a proper bed after tonight.”

Ian furrowed his brows but followed Mickey into his bedroom without complaint. He wasn’t going to say no to sleeping next to Mickey. He had never been to his bedroom. There was a double bed with a small bedside table, a dresser, and a large mirror. The floor was wooden like the rest of the apartment and it was surprisingly clean. Mickey chucked off his shirt and stepped out of his pants. He put on a cleaner tank and walked to his bed before he realized Ian still standing in the doorway, frozen.

“You okay there?”

Ian let out a long breath. Then he huffed out a laugh and shook his head. He had to get a grip. If seeing Mickey’s back muscles contract as he tore off his shirt already made him feel like this he would never find sleep next to him. He stepped out of his pants and took off his shirt before crawling into bed between Mickey and the wall. They were facing each other, the thin sheet only covering the lower halves of their body as the early morning sun lit up the room. Their eyes locked and neither man wanted to look away.

“You wanna close the curtains?” Ian asked in a whisper.

Mickey kept their eye contact for a moment before he rolled off the bed to close the curtains. When he came back he laid just that little bit closer to Ian. Ian tried to keep his breathing shallow so Mickey wouldn’t realize how nervous he made him. What Ian didn’t know was that Mickey was feeling the same way. It took him all he had not to reach over to grab Ian by his neck and pull him into a kiss. He took another breath.

“Thank you. For everything,” he whispered.

Ian swallowed and then he couldn’t take it anymore. He surged forward and closed the distance. He pressed his lips against Mickey’s, eyes shut tightly to avoid seeing Mickey’s reaction. Then he felt fingers pushing into his hair and Mickey pushed back. Ian let out a surprised sound, but didn’t miss a beat. He pulled Mickey closer by the waist and opened his lips to deepen the kiss. Mickey entangled his fingers with Ian’s hair and placed his other hands on Ian’s neck, massaging it lightly. Ian sighed when Mickey’s lips opened to let him in. Mickey’s light touches on his neck made his entire body tingle and he never wanted to stop kissing him. He laced his arms completely around Mickey’s waist and pulled him even closer. They both felt their cocks starting to harden but they were both too tired and exhausted to take this any further. They were happy just making out.

Breathless, they pulled away after a few minutes. They stayed close, foreheads touching and Ian huffed out a disbelieving laugh.

“Wow,” he whispered.

Mickey smiled and pecked Ian’s lips once more before turning around in his arms. Ian pulled him tightly against his chest and nuzzled the back of his neck. A few seconds later they were both sound asleep.

 

When Ian woke up he was alone in bed. He let the memories of the morning flood his mind and pushed his face into Mickey’s pillow. He was blushing and grinning stupidly like a teenager with his first crush. He took a deep breath, inhaling Mickey’s scent, and then rolled onto his back to stretch out. He let out a long happy sigh and finally rolled out of bed. He searched through Mickey’s dresser for a shirt that would fit him. Then he made his way out into the kitchen. Mandy was standing at the stove cooking what smelled like pancakes.

“Morning,” Ian said, his voice still raspy from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and came to stand next to Mandy with his hands on his hips, and looked over her shoulder.

“More like good evening. It’s three in the afternoon,” she said and smiled up at him, “I see you didn’t sleep on the couch this time?”

Ian grinned right back at her and he knew that she knew exactly that something had happened that morning. She shook her head at his love struck expression and placed a few pancakes on a plate for him. He settled at the counter with it and a fork. They were silent for a while; Ian busy with eating and Mandy cooking more pancakes for herself. He didn’t want to ask but he really wanted to know where Mickey was. After that morning he hoped they could talk about it, figure out where to go from there. Mandy kept shooting him glances and he knew she was just waiting for him to ask. After another five minutes of silence she couldn’t take it anymore.

“He’s in the bar. Some dude who wants to sponsor us came by.”

Ian stopped mid-bite and looked innocently at her for a moment before he continued eating, as though he didn’t care. Mandy huffed out a laugh and pushed his shoulder.

“Dick.”

Ian just grinned at her and they went back to eating their pancakes.

 

Ian flopped down on the floor with a huff, back against the bar. He slipped off the thick grey work gloves and dusted down his clothes. He and Mickey had sanded the bar and the new tables and chairs to get them ready for the varnishing. Ian ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair as Mickey sat down next to him. He handed him a beer, keeping one for himself. Their eyes roamed over the place, inspecting the progress they had made.

The past days since the collecting-event had been hectic to say the least. Neither of the three had had a minute of free time as they had been working hard with renovating and marketing the bar. It was supposed to be a similar thing to the collecting event and therefore they wanted to still get it done in the summer.

The windows were replaced, their frames sanded and varnished. Thick dark red curtains lay neatly folded on one of the tables, ready to be hung upon the new wooden curtain poles. The door had been replaced as well. It was just as massive as the old one, made of the same dark wood, but the bar’s new name was beautifully carved into its front.

Ian took a sip of his beer and let out a satisfied sigh causing Mickey to huff out a laugh beside him. Ian turned his head to him with a grin.

“What?”

Mickey shook his head.

“Nothing, man. Can’t believe this is actually working out.”

Ian smiled as he watched Mickey still looking around the bar in awe.

Ian hadn’t gotten the talk he had hoped for after the collecting-event. It had been so busy, there had been no time for relationship discussions, so Ian had decided to postpone any and all thoughts of it. Mickey would come around when he had room in his mind to think about this stuff. Ian was glad that it wasn’t awkward. He didn’t try to get any closer to Mickey than they had been before and Mickey didn’t treat him any differently either. They were still friends and Ian was glad that that hadn’t changed. But in moments like this he wished he could just move a little closer, kiss Mickey, and tell him he was proud of what they all had accomplished. He didn’t know how Mickey felt, though. He had made no advances although Ian had continued sleeping in Mickey’s bed. They hardly slept at the same time anymore though. Mickey often stayed up all night, but Ian needed to sleep to keep a routine. So when Ian was awake during the day, Mickey would sleep for a few hours. They hadn’t had a minute alone together until now; someone was always been around. For a split second Ian thought about speaking up, telling Mickey about everything he felt for him. Then he looked at him though and saw the exhaustion on his face and he just couldn’t. He had told himself that he could be patient for Mickey, so he would wait.

After finishing their beers they got back to work and managed to finish the bar, tables, and chairs before dinner. Ian and Mickey pretty much collapsed on the bed after dinner and only just managed to undress and crawl under the thin sheets. Ian turned onto his side, arm under his pillow, facing Mickey. He was busy setting an alarm for the next morning while Ian contemplated whether to talk to him now or not. The thoughts of Mickey had started to consume his every thought ever since their kiss and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Mick?”

Mickey locked his phone and placed it on the bedside table and turned his head to look back at Ian. He was on his stomach and his eyes were already drooping.

“What?” he whispered.

Ian took a deep breath before he spoke, “Should we talk about, the uh, the kiss?”

Mickey just blinked at him for a few minutes that felt like hours to Ian. He knew he was blushing and his cheeks probably looked a deep shade of pink by the time Mickey finally spoke, “Can we … can we talk about all that after all of this bar-stuff? I just, I don’t have time for all this relationship stuff and dating or whatever your plan is at the moment okay?”

Ian was taken aback. He didn’t know what he had expected, maybe exactly what he had gotten, but he couldn’t help but be hurt. He felt his stomach drop and he felt his cheeks heat up even more in embarrassment. Mickey was already falling asleep, but Ian was wide-awake now. He didn’t know what to do, whether he should leave or stay. His eyes were wide as he stared at Mickey. He should have just waited. He tried to settle down, taking deep breaths as he nodded to himself. Just because Mickey didn’t want to talk about it now didn’t mean he didn’t want Ian, he told himself. He knew Mickey was busy at the moment; everything was fine. It took a while, but eventually Ian fell asleep as well.

 

The following weeks were just as busy, if not busier, as the previous weeks. Ian and Mickey didn’t get one second alone together and Ian was giving up hope to have a talk anytime soon. He didn’t dare touch the subject with a ten-foot pole anymore. He was determined to wait. He was not going to push Mickey, refused to make the same mistakes he had made in his previous relationships.

The opening of the bar was just as successful as the collecting-event. The sponsor delivered his beer on time and they got a sign for above the bar’s entrance and behind the counter inside, which were both installed a week prior to the opening. Mandy had hired a girl she had met in college to work for minimum wage and Ian had recruited Fiona and Debbie again to help out at the opening. On top of it all Ian finished the article, which was now solely about the new bar, on the Saturday before the opening. The magazine published it on Monday and it gave them just another boost in publicity.

Ian was buzzing with excitement as he pushed through the mass of people to get to the bar. He was helping out with waiting again and this time he was inside so he came back to the bar every few minutes. He loved working with Mickey like that; it was fun. What had him so excited though was the fact that for him this opening didn’t just mean the beginning of this business but also the end of all the stress. It meant having time again and being able to speak to Mickey about them, about going out and possibly becoming a couple. He had been waiting for this day for months and he couldn’t wait for the event to be over so he could go to bed with Mickey again. He had planned a nice breakfast in bed during which Ian planned to ask Mickey out. It worked perfectly in his head.

When he reached the bar, though, he looked around to find Mickey at the end of it talking to a man Ian hadn’t seen before. He moved closer until he could hear what they were saying and he stopped. The man’s hand was on Mickey’s arm and they were laughing at something Ian hadn’t heard. Then the man leaned closer, eyes watching Mickey’s lips for a moment, before he looked back into his eyes and said, “One day, Mickey. One day I will take you out.”

Ian’s eyes widened and his head snapped around to see how Mickey would react. But he just laughed, patted the guy’s hand, and said, “Okay, Ryan. I gotta get back to work.”

Had Ian been able to think rationally in that moment, he probably would have realized that it hadn’t been serious, that Mickey hadn’t said yes, but in fact had obviously said no to the guy before. But Ian wasn’t rational in this moment. He was furious because someone dared to approach what he wanted to be his. Someone had dared to lie a hand on  _his_ Mickey. He turned on his heels and pushed his way out of the bar. He switched with Fiona so she would work inside and he could get his drinks from the bar Kev had set up outside instead of having to see Mickey. He knew he was overreacting, knew he had no reason to be jealous, but what he had just witnessed didn’t sit right with him and he didn’t know what he would do if he had to speak to Mickey in that moment. He would probably blurt it all out, tell Mickey everything, and effectively push him away just like he had done before with every other guy.

Ian didn’t sleep over that night. He decided to go home, clear his mind a little, and make sure not all of his plants had died yet. He had been home every once in a while, of course, getting clothes and the mail, but most of his time had been spent at the Milkovichs’s apartment. Neither of them complained when Ian announced he would be going home, both too tired to think anything of it. Ian’s plan was to stay away for a few days, get back into his normal life, and get some distance to clear his mind. He wanted to be calm and collected the next time he would approach Mickey.

 

Another reason that kept him away from the bar for a while was the fact that he had to go back to work. He had gotten most of the time he had spent helping with the bar off from work because it had had to do with the article. Now he was back to his old schedule though. He had to catch up on a lot of work and only found the time to go back one Wednesday evening. He was hoping that it wouldn’t be too crowded on a weekday. Mandy had told him that due to the collecting-event, the opening, and Ian’s article their business was booming. The bar was completely full almost every day. Still, he hoped he could get five minutes with Mickey that night.

When he got to the bar he could already see the crowd outside, waiting to be let in. He walked past them ready to just walk in when a large hand stopped him by his chest. Ian looked up and was faced with a huge guy wearing a security jacket.

“I am a friend of the owners,” Ian said and made to walk past, but the security man stopped him.

“The place is full. I wasn’t told about any special guests so I suggest you leave,” he said.

Ian was taken aback for a moment before he collected himself and smiled up at the man.

“You can ask Mandy or Mickey, it’s cool.”

The security guy huffed out a laugh and crossed his arms as he leaned down a little.

“Listen, Mandy and Mickey are busy so I suggest you get your scrawny ass out of here before I make you, got it?”

Dumbfounded, Ian moved back a few steps, he gave a curt nod before he turned and walked away. He caught a glimpse of that Ryan-guy from the opening sitting at the bar talking to Mandy when he passed the window and let out a sigh. He immediately suppressed the jealousy he felt flaming up inside of him and left. He’d just call beforehand next time.

 

The next time he did call and made sure Mandy would tell their bouncer that he was allowed in. After shooting the guy a cocky smile he pushed through the people to the bar. He came up right in front of Mandy and she squealed a little when she saw him. They hugged over the counter and it made him feel a lot better to know how happy she was to see him.

“Ian, I was almost worried you wouldn’t keep your promise,” she said.

Ian smiled and said, “Mandy, if I promise to be around, I will be. Your bouncer just didn’t like me.”

“Sorry about that, but don’t worry he knows now that you are always allowed in.”

Ian smiled gratefully and accepted the beer she handed him. He looked around as Mandy excused herself to tend to her customers. He spotted Mickey at the end of the bar leaning over and talking to Ryan. They were close so they could hear each other and Ian felt his heart squeeze when he saw Mickey laugh and the way Ryan eyed his lips as he did so. With another gulp of his beer and a deep breath Ian made his way over to them. Mickey saw him first and smiled, obviously also happy to see Ian.

“Hey man,” he said as he nodded to him, “where’ve you been?”

Ian shrugged and grinned right back at Mickey.

“I was a bit occupied with work and stuff,” he said and then turned to Ryan, reaching out his hand, “I’m Ian by the way.”

Ryan nodded and shook his hand before he looked back to Mickey and said, “Ryan. You two friends?”

“Yeah,” Mickey answered, “without Ian here this bar wouldn’t exist. He helped us a hell of a lot to get all the money and stuff.”

Ian beamed at the praise and he could feel the back of his neck heating up. He could listen forever to Mickey talking about him like this. It made him feel accomplished and proud of himself and that was why he had helped in the first place after all.

“So you two are good friends?” Ryan asked.

Ian nodded slowly. Ryan had this sly smile on his lips that Ian just couldn’t decipher. He didn’t have to wait long for an explanation though.

“So I bet you can tell me what I gotta do to get this handsome man to go out with me,” Ryan said as he grinned at Mickey.

Ian almost choked on his drink. He managed to keep it together and quickly glanced to Mickey to see him full out laughing, head thrown back, hand on his stomach. Ian didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but it didn’t sit right with him. His heart was thumping hard in his chest and he looked between the two grinning men in front of him before he cleared his throat and shrugged.

“Sorry dude, no can do. He’s a tough nut to crack,” he said and winked at Ryan trying to keep at least some dignity while ignoring the way his stomach dropped. Mickey knew he liked him, right? He knew Ian wanted to date him, yet he let Ryan talk like that in front of him. Ian didn’t know what to think of it, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of making a scene. He excused himself instead and left the bar without another word.

 

When Mickey realized that Ian most likely wouldn’t come back, he felt the strong urge to strangle Ryan. Mickey had gotten so used to Ian being around all the time, he had missed him the past couple of days he hadn’t been. He missed the warmth next to him in bed and he missed the way Ian had looked at him sometimes when he thought Mickey wasn’t looking. He had always been looking at Ian though, he was the only thing ever-present in Mickey’s mind and he didn’t know how to feel about it. After their kiss he had tried to figure out what it meant, what he was feeling. He hadn’t wanted to get Ian’s hopes up, because Mickey hadn’t been sure if he could do dating or a relationship. When Ian had asked him about it he had wanted to just say ‘yes’ and cuddle up to him, but in his exhaustion and sleepy haze he had said ‘no’. He had regretted it the next morning, but then he had thought that maybe it had been good. Mickey had had to concentrate on other things back then and he knew Ian would understand. And he had. He hadn’t tried anything and Mickey had been thankful. But then Ian hadn’t slept over after the opening and, even though at the time Mickey hadn’t thought much of it, he certainly had after Ian hadn’t shown up for a few days. Seeing him at the bar then had been a relief. He had wanted nothing but to tell Mandy he would take a break and take Ian upstairs. He had been so happy to see him until Ryan had spoken. Ian hadn’t been as subtle about his dislike for Ryan and when he had asked Ian about dating Mickey he couldn’t help but laugh. Ryan had asked the only person Mickey would ever say ‘yes’ to and he had thought Ian knew that. The more time passed after Ian had excused himself though told Mickey that Ian didn’t seem to know. He had seen the flash of hurt crossing Ian’s face before he had put on that cocky façade he always put on when he was uncomfortable. He looked over to Mandy frowning at him. A minute later they were in front of each other and Mandy eyed curiously.

“I thought you liked Ian. What the hell is going on?”

Mickey ran a hand through his hair.

“I do. I don’t know, I thought he knew, too.”

Mandy raised her eyebrows and asked, “Well did you tell him you like him?”

His response was a sheepish look and a stuttered “not really” and that was all Mandy needed. She slapped him across the head.

“You can’t go tonight, but I’m gonna call Rajai tomorrow and then you go to his place and make this right,” she said and there was really no way for Mickey to object. Not that he wanted to anyway.

 

So the next day Mickey found himself in front of Ian’s apartment door with a bunch of take out, and nerves like he had never had before. He knocked and waited patiently until he heard someone shuffling around behind the door before it opened up. Mickey could have just melted then and there. Ian was only dressed in sweats, his hair sticking up in all directions, and his cheeks still pink from sleep.

“Mick?” he asked.

Mickey held up the take out and said, “Haven’t seen you in a while and you were gone pretty quickly yesterday. You hungry?”

Ian motioned for him to come inside and closed the door. He crossed his arms and eyed Mickey warily. He didn’t let Ian deter him though. After a few minutes of searching he got cutlery and plates from the kitchen and set everything up on the coffee table by the couch. The TV was on and it looked like Ian had been sleeping on the couch before Mickey had come by. When he was done, Mickey stood by the couch and waved his hands toward the it and food.

“Dinner?” he asked self-consciously.

Ian stared for a moment longer, before he sighed and sat down next to Mickey. Ian kept silent, but Mickey was unusually chatty and told Ian about the first weeks of  _The Jailhouse_. Ian listened intently. He was glad the bar was doing so great and to hear Mickey talk so animatedly about it warmed his heart. He wished he could be a part of it all.

“We missed you these past days,” Mickey said all of a sudden. He was looking down at his food as he said it but Ian saw the pink of his cheeks.

Ian was speechless for a moment. His mind minimized to just one thought,  _‘Mickey missed me.’_  He was trying desperately to find something to say, to tell Mickey that he had missed him too but he couldn’t form any cohesive thoughts. 

Mickey seemed out of words as well. He looked a little shocked at the admission and tried to glance away, avoiding Ian’s eyes at all costs because he knew what he’d do if he looked up. But then he stopped. What was it he would do? Kiss him? Would that really be bad? Yes, because Mickey wanted to talk. He wanted to tell Ian why he had said ‘no’ that time Ian wanted to ask him out, wanted to tell him that there was nothing going on between him and Ryan, and that he only laughed because it had been so ridiculous of Ryan to think Mickey would say yes to anyone but Ian. Mickey felt Ian move closer and when he looked up he caught his eyes, wide and unsure. He couldn’t stand it. Mickey leaned up and planted his lips on Ian’s. It was much like their first kiss. Then Ian slung his arms around Mickey’s waist and pulled him into his lap. Mickey pushed a hand into Ian’s hair and slung his other arm around his shoulders.

They made out for a while, shallowly grinding against each other, but never taking it any further. After a few minutes Ian pulled away. Foreheads pressed together, he ran his thumb over Mickey’s swollen lips.

“You want this?” he breathed. They were looking into each other’s eyes and Ian needed desperately to find Mickey’s answer in the way he looked at him.

“Yeah,” Mickey said with a nod, but it was the honesty in his eyes that made Ian believe him. It was the look he reserved for Mandy and that Ian had never seen directed to anyone else until now. He wouldn’t say he knew Mickey through and through, but for now it was enough, more than enough. He still had a bunch of questions, mostly about this Ryan-guy, but for now he pulled Mickey into another kiss, slower this time. For now he was content with the knowledge that Mickey wanted him, too, that Mickey was his now. His to hold, his to kiss, and his to love.  


End file.
